


The Soup Was A Metaphor

by AceOfTime, AtlanteanLeviathan



Series: Quadrangle [2]
Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, Multi, also angst at the end?, it wasnt even planned oh no, mommy bill, much fluff, stupid dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 02:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5565874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOfTime/pseuds/AceOfTime, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlanteanLeviathan/pseuds/AtlanteanLeviathan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper and Wirt are sick and Bill is being a little too motherly over them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Soup Was A Metaphor

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a planned goldenpinescone fic where Wirt moves to Gravity Falls after his experience with the Unknown

"For fucks sake, you’re sick too now?” Bill groaned.

“It’s not my fault!” Wirt retorted.

“It kind of is.”

“I thought it was mine!”

“You drink peach sleepytime tea you fucking idiot! Dipper consumes the bitterest coffee known to man while you get whiney if you don’t have milk and sugar in your tea, and that didn’t tip you off?” Bill said, exasperated.

“It was the morning, and I was tired.”

Bill pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Great. Now he had to take care of two sick humans. Of course Wirt had to be an idiot and drink from Dipper’s coffee cup.

Wirt was now sitting in Dipper’s bed with a thermometer stuck in his mouth. Dipper was passed out next to him. The attic had basically been quarantined by Bill to make sure no one else got sick. Meaning both Dipper and Wirt were confined to the stuffy room.

“Can you just stop arguing with me about something that is already done and over with and get me my soup?” Wirt sighed and crossed his arms, pulling the thermometer from his mouth.

“Stop acting like a child or all you’ll be getting is that nasty vegetarian vegetable soup.” Bill leveled a glare at Wirt. He still hadn’t gotten used to living with these two stubborn mortals. They got quite annoying at times. At least one of them was out of commission.

“You wouldn’t _dare_ ” Wirt narrowed his eyes at the demon, with a disbelieving look, “that’ll probably make me sicker!”

“You want to try me? And stop overreacting it won’t make you sicker,” Bill smirked and put a hand on his hip, meeting the tall brunet’s stare.

They were interrupted by a low groaning noise as Dipper’s form shifted slightly underneath the blankets.

“Guys please shut up I’m trying to sleep here,” the man whined, trying to shove Wirt away so he could have more space. He struggled with the sheets, trying to find a better position to sleep in so his stomach wouldn’t hurt as much.

Wirt and Bill turned on each other with matching glares, silencing each other.

“Kill me, ugh I feel disgusting,” he pulled the covers up as far as they could go, tired of being sick and trapped with these arguing idiots. He just wanted to go back to writing the novel, or exploring the forest. Being outside in the fresh air sounded ideal right about now.

“Bill can you _please_ get some soup for us?” Wirt said persistently.

“I’m not your servant,” Bill snapped. He was going to do it anyway but he wasn’t about to let himself be bossed around and told what to do.

“Bill, c’mon,” Dipper mumbled. Usually Dipper was the one who mediated Bill and Wirt’s arguments. And Wirt with Bill and Dipper.

Bill grumbled an ok and turned on his heels. He hated that he couldn’t say no to Dipper. He walked out of the room, throwing one last glance over his shoulder at the two men. Admittedly he didn’t like leaving them alone together. It made him jealous. Which he knew was stupid, but he felt it nonetheless.

_____

Walking down the stairs, he peeked into the living room, making sure that Mabel hadn’t taken advantage of her time unsupervised and detonated another glitter bomb in the house again. Thankfully Mabel and Greg were curled up on the couch, watching The Princess and the Frog, and not off making a mess that he would no doubt be forced to clean up.

Greg saw Bill in his peripheral vision, and turned to look at him. “Hey Mr. Cipher!” He called with a smile.

“Hey Teacup,” Bill grinned back at him.

“If me and Jason Funderburker started a swamp band like Louis the alligator, do you think Old Man McGucket’s racoon wife would join us? We need all the members we can get,” he asked earnestly.

Bill continued on his way into the kitchen, “If you can find her, I’m sure she’ll want to join in on the fun,” he called back over his shoulder. He opened the cabinets up looking for the pots until he found one. Placing the pot on the stovetop while he fished around in the cabinets for the chicken noodle soup. Once he found two cans, plenty for the boys to eat, he opened them up with the can opener, emptying them out in the pot. He set the fire on high and started heating the soup up.

“The things I do for these idiots,” he sighed out, stirring the soup as it started to bubble up. He relaxed listening to the relaxing sound of the bubbling pot and the clacking of Mabel’s knitting needles in the next room. When the soup was finally at the desired temperature he took it off the hot burner and turned off the heat. He picked out two bowls from the dish cabinet, and looked around for the food tray. “Hey Shooting Star, do you know where the tray is?”

“Oh, sorry we were using it for hot chocolate and s'mores, it’s still out here,” she responded, keeping focused on her work.

Bill set down the bowls and walked back into the living room, searching for the tray. He found it on the coffee table, still covered in s’mores crumbs. As he picked up the tray he peeked over at Mabel’s latest sweater. She was starting to feed the next row a lovely navy yarn, the half finished silver writing quill glared him in the face, and a sick feeling sunk into his stomach. He quickened his pace back to the kitchen, not wanting to face a physical testament to how much Mabel approved of Wirt. Bill roughly set the dirty dishes into the sink, and swept off any remaining crumbs, before setting the bowls into the tray. He filled the bowls with the hot soup, and set out spoons and cans of ginger ale on the tray. He swallowed down the lump in his throat as he picked up the loaded tray and started the walk up to the attic.

_____

Dipper yawned and sat up. He wasn’t going back to sleep anyway.

He leaned on Wirt and poked his side. “Hey Wirt.”

“Yeah?”

“I need some fresh air man,” Dipper groaned, leaning back against the bed’s headboard. “I’ve been stuck in this damn room for too long.”

Wirt stared at Dipper for a moment. “Yeah and how do you suppose we get some?” Bill had been pretty pretty explicit that he would kill them if they left the room. And Wirt wasn’t even sure if he was joking.

“We could climb out the window,” Dipper suggested, shrugging. Dipper turned to look at the stained glass window that let the light into the room. Ironically in the likeness of Bill’s triangle form. He got up shakily and moved over to it, pushing it out and letting a pour of clean air into the room. It smelled of pine needles and open skies, everything Dipper loved about Gravity Falls.

“...I’m not sure that’s the best idea Dip,” Wirt said cautiously. The scent of the forest was tempting but he wasn’t sure how Bill would react if he caught them up there.

“Oh come on Wirt, don’t be such a stuck up,” Dipper laughed, trotting over to tug Wirt out of bed. He smiled at him and pulled Wirt by his hand over to the window.

Wirt felt a blush growing on his cheeks. Oh god his smile was so perfect-

Dipper took a tentative step onto the shingles of the roof, using Wirt for support. “You know it’s kind of funny seeing Bill acting like a mother hen over us,” Dipper said casually. “He’s probably the last person I could see doing that.”

Wirt chuckled softly. “Yeah, it is weird.” If only Dipper knew Bill was only doing it for him. Bill would probably push Wirt off the roof if that wouldn’t make Dipper pissed. The competition between the two of them got pretty intense at times. He kept a close eye on Dipper as he stepped out onto the roof. It would probably be bad if they ended up falling off and hurting themselves even more.

Dipper flourished his hand exaggeratedly and held out his hand for Wirt to take. “Let me help you my _prince_ ,” Dipper joked.

Wirt’s ears grew warm as he took Dipper’s hand and got pulled onto the roof beside him. He held onto Dipper so he wouldn’t slip off. And maybe because he wanted to. The forest looked amazing from up here. Wirt could just see above the top of the trees and spied the small town he now called home. A soft breeze drifted past them, blowing their hair gently. Wirt took a deep breath. Gravity Falls always seemed to take it away. Especially a certain person who may or may not be standing next to him.

They helped each other up to the small balcony just over the attic and sat down with their legs hanging over the edge.

“It’s nice to finally be outside,” Wirt commented quietly.

Dipper gave a soft laugh at the comment, ”I couldn’t breathe in there, I swear.”

Wirt turned to him with a concerned look. “Is it really that bad? Maybe you should take something for the congestion?” he suggested with a furrowed brow.

“No, it’s not that. I just can’t handle all of Bill’s hovering. I’m not dying, it’s just a cold. He doesn’t have to watch over me every second of the day.” Dipper closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale of the forest around them. “I mean, sure I appreciate it and everything, but I can take care of myself. I don’t need all this. I guess it _is_ nice that he cares so much though.” He leaned onto Wirt, tired from all the activity. “I just wish he wasn’t so fussy.”

Wirt stiffened at the contact, a flush rising on his face. “Heh, yeah the constant supervision does kind of suck.” Especially when he’s trying to cuddle with Dipper, it made the whole situation even more awkward. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to do now that he was finally alone with Dipper for the first time in what felt like forever. He lifted the arm closest to Dipper, and froze in contemplation. _Is this ok_ , would Dipper be okay with this? Does Dipper even feel anything for him? Could he ever? Maybe not. Not when he had an all powerful demon waiting on him hand and foot as if he was on his deathbed. Wirt slowly lowered his arm back to the ground, as any confidence he had disappeared on the winds with the fall leaves.

Wirt resigned himself to humming softly and looking out from their perch. Avoiding looking at Dipper’s face at all costs. He didn’t want to make this situation awkward. It was rather nice how it was currently.

_____

Bill made his way up the creaky wooden steps of the shack. _They really should do something about those steps. They’re going to give away at some point_ , Bill noted. He flicked his finger and the door to the attic opened at his will. One look into the room and Bill grit his teeth. They were gone. Where the hell could they have gone? There was no way out except the…

Oh hell. Bill was going to kill them. He sat the tray on the bedside table calmly and walked over to the open window. He had about a billion reasons why climbing out onto the roof was a terrible idea but apparently they didn’t have as much sense as him. The only thing he approved of was the window shape. He remembered Sixer building that for him.

Bill stuck his head out the window and angled his head to see if they really were out there. Yep, they were. Out there on the damn roof where that could get themselves killed. Those sickly idiots are going to be the death of him one day. He’s going to push them both off the roof and not regret it for at the most five minutes.

Bill caught Dipper’s eye and gave him a hard glare. Dipper made an “O” with his mouth and nudged Wirt.

“Shit we’re so dead,” Dipper whispered, as Bill climbed out and clambered up to where they were sitting.

“Yes. Both of you are. Kindly list your preferred methods while I’m feeling generous. I’m really feeling dismemberment right now,” Bill said sternly.

“We just wanted to get some fresh air, jeez,” Dipper said, raising his hands in defense. Wirt was sitting there in silence, trying to decide whether he wanted to add anything to the conversation. Probably not, seeing as Bill was fuming.

“Well I guess you wanted to fall off the roof too, maybe everyone’s wishes will be granted today,” he bit out at Dipper, crossing his arms as he glared down at the two.

“Stop acting like an overprotective mom, we’re both full grown adults Bill,” Dipper complained. How was it possible for someone to be this annoying when they’re trying to be helpful? Only Bill could do that probably. He shot a look at Wirt, who just shrugged.

Bill sighed and shook his head. “Whatever, just get your asses back inside,” Bill said, jerking his thumb back at the window. He leveled a glare at the two before climbing his way back through. 

Wirt rose from the roof with a loud sigh, brushing off his pajama pants. He turned to Dipper and helped him stand up, holding onto his bicep gently to make sure he didn’t fall off the roof and piss Bill off further. Dipper entered the window first, huffing as he crawled through the stained glass panes, the light shining through it cast multicolored shapes on Dipper’s skin.

Bill winced at Dipper and Wirt’s closeness, the pang in his chest that had become all too familiar now returning with a vengeance. He frowned and stared at the ground. All he wanted was for the pain to go away. Did they have to be so close together all the time? If they were going to do this, could they maybe not do it in front of him? It was especially painful since he knew that Wirt was aware of his feelings for Dipper. He looked away from the pair, back to the partially forgotten tray. Oh that.

“I have the soup that you were so persistent about getting,” he turned his back to them, tired of looking at them so close, and picked up the tray. Turning back, he watched Wirt and Dipper climb back into the bed. He sat the tray on their laps and forced a smile. “Well since you’re all set and you don’t need me hovering over you while you eat, I’ll be downstairs with Shooting Star and Teacup. If you need me just call.”

With a small nod he turned and left, walking back downstairs to the living room, much less cheerful than he was before.

Dipper seemed oblivious to Bill’s change in demeanor and picked up his spoon to dig into the soup. Wirt, however, did notice Bill’s fake smile, and how stiff his spine was until he walked deep into the dark confines of the hallway. His shoulders slumping in a defeated manner. Guilt flooded Wirt’s system. Bill was kind of a jerk but he definitely didn’t deserve to see the object of his affections getting cuddly with his rival of sorts. He knows what it’s like to be in that position. It’s not fun, at all.

Wirt sighed and leaned on Dipper. He hated when things were complicated. Should he feel happy that he seems to have Dipper’s attention at the moment, or sympathize with Bill who isn’t getting any at all? He looked down at the chicken soup, not really knowing how to feel about the situation, guilt pooling in his stomach for some reason as he sipped at a spoonful of broth.

_____

Bill walked downstairs into the living room, a real smile making way to his face at the sight of Mabel and Greg cheering for Tiana’s and Prince Naveen’s wedding scene and subsequent happy ending, despite having seen it no less than half a dozen times. Maybe not everyone gets to have a happy ending like in these movies, but he’ll be damned if these two precious humans don’t make him want to believe that something like that could have been possible for him. He set down between them as another movie began to play on the screen. He’ll think about his love troubles at another time.

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration for the title was this comment: what if the soup is a metaphor for bill’s love and he’s just giving up on it. hello darkness my old friend.


End file.
